Anarchist Buzz
by ChaosAngel4us
Summary: Tombraider is a Z Dealer who works in the upscale part of town. During a run, she gets shot and dragged before one Miss Amber Sweet. Toomes is given an ultimatum: death for grave robbing or find the anarchist Shilo Wallace and bring her to GENEco. Out of self preservation, she hits the streets with an undercover GENEcop to find Shilo and the Z Dealer protecting her.


**So, I know I shouldn't be starting another story when I have so many that are unfinished, but I really can't help myself. I have so many ideas! So, this is a Repo fic I have been meaning to write for a while. Sorry for the lack of Graverobber and Shilo in this chapter, but we'll go check in on them next time for sure!  
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**This takes place 2 years after the film and will deal a lot with Graverobber's past along with how Shilo fits into society now. There will be action and romance and death and absolute anarchy. Hope you enjoy!**

**Warning: This story is for mature audiences only. There will be sex, gore, and language for sure. You have been warned. **

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**Disclaimer: I do not own _Repo! The Genetic Opera_, but I do love the film with all my heart.**

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It was late at night when the young man stumbled out of the club, his expensive tailored suit coat slung over his shoulder and his tie dangling precariously from his neck. Looking left and right, he slipped into a back alley nearby. Hanging in the shadows stood a young woman with her arms crossed and a predatory smirk on her lips. She pushed herself off from the alley wall and stalked toward him, her eyes were narrowing into slits like a cat's.

The man took a moment to admire her. She was dressed in dark blue skinny jeans that were stained with grime along with a long black trench coat that covered a peacock blue shirt and a gray vest that was probably black at one point. The vest framed her breasts nicely, the man mused. Fingerless gloves, platform boots, and a necklace with a green gem finished her ensemble.

Her hair was dirty blonde and was plaited in a side braid that hung over her right shoulder. Her face was covered in thick white makeup and her eyes were rimmed with thick black shadow. Her lips were stained blood red and her fingernails were colored a similar color. She was… pretty in her own way. Probably much prettier if she took off the thick makeup and took a bath.

His eyes were finally drawn to the belt where a gun and several vials of glowing blue liquid hung. His mouth watered.

"I want a hit of Z." the man almost panted, his insides twisting in anticipation at the thought of the street drug. The woman pulled a vial of that glowing blue liquid off of her belt along with the small gun. She fitted the zydrate into the gun and gave him a heated stare, looking up and down his body languidly.

"Don't they all?" she mused, swinging the gun around her index finger. The man didn't take to being teased very kindly.

"Yes. That is why I'm here, bitch, so give me the fucking drug before I shoot you and yank it from your cold corpse!" he shouted angrily, clenching his teeth. He took a threatening step toward her but she simply laughed in his face.

"Oh, you're a feisty one." She said simply. Before he could blink, she had a knife to his throat and his back against the alley wall. He swallowed hard, fear filling him. The Z Dealer had lost all traces of mirth from her eyes. Instead they were hard as steel. Her personality made a complete 180 and she stood over him as the most terrifying thing he had ever seen. "If you _ever_ threaten me again, I _will_ kill you. It will be slow and incredibly painful and I will enjoy every last minute of it. Understand?"

The man nodded, swallowing again. The knife was removed and he straightened himself up, brushing dirt from his jacket. The woman was smirking again, all traces of her other persona gone.

"Shall we try this again?" she asked. The man nodded quickly. "Alright. Payment first."

The man dug through his pockets and pulled out a wad of cash. "Will this cover it?"

The woman pursed her lips as she contemplated it. She shook her head after a moment. "'Fraid not. Looks like we'll have to come to a different arrangement." She said. The man dug through his pockets again.

"I think I have more somewhere. I know I have some at home—"

"We'll make this easy." She interrupted. He looked up at her as she leaned against the alley wall. She spread her legs and unbuttoned her jeans. The man's eyes were drawn there as she shimmied out of them and her underwear. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Well? Get to work."

The man did as he was told, dropping the cash on the ground, slipping himself out of his pants, and pushing her tightly against the wall to press his mouth against hers. She squirmed against him, frustrated at the amount of time he was taking, and he pushed inside of her to comply. She sighed as he moved against her, the wall digging into her back slightly. His thrusts were erratic and his breathing was ragged, but she simply leaned back and allowed herself to unwind.

There were no words as she climaxed, but she pushed him away and left him unsatisfied when she was finished. She tugged her jeans back on and pressed the gun against his exposed groin. He gasped in pleasure as the zydrate infiltrated his body and filled his veins. She tucked the gun to her hip and pulled her trench coat tightly around her body to hide the glow before leaving the man lying on the ground. She swiped the cash from the dirt and tucked it into her jeans, looking left and right before striding purposefully out of the alley and into the night.

It was finally dark enough to go harvesting, the woman decided. She made her way to the nearest graveyard, walking as nonchalantly as possible. It wouldn't be good to draw attention to herself if she made a mad dash to "Lincoln Pines", as it was called. She thought it was a stupid name, but with more and more being buried there every week, she wasn't one to complain.

"Toomes!" a voice shouted behind her. The dealer stopped dead in her tracks, wincing. She spun around to see a well dressed scalpel slut rushing toward her. His eyes were wide and he looked almost rabid as he fell to his knees at her feet. "Toomes, I need a hit, please."

He grasped at her clothes, slobbering all over her boots. Toomes rolled her eyes.

"Alright, alright, pay up and I'll give you a hit." She said. He shook his head.

"How about I give you something more… enjoyable for your efforts." He offered, running a hand down her arm and over her chest. It was Toomes' turn to shake her head. He might have been well dressed, but a scalpel slut is a scalpel slut after all and they'll do _anything_ for a hit of Z.

"Sorry, some rich kid popped me off back at the alley. It's cash or nothing."

The scalpel slut sighed but complied and Toomes gave him a hit of Z to his neck, doing it quickly enough to minimize the exposure of the glow of zydrate. The scalpel slut staggered away; Toomes guessed he was off to find a dumpster to ride the rest of his high off in.

Toomes got back on track to the graveyard. She was getting tired and wanted to harvest at least a few vials before finding somewhere to crash for the day.

A tall steel fence with razor wire on top surrounded the graveyard as a means to discourage grave robbing. Toomes simply grinned. It only acted as a challenge. And she _loved _challenges. It was a simply enough climb to the top of the fence. She peeled aside the razor wire, the result of her snipping through it several years ago when she first started grave robbing in this area, and dropped to the ground on the other side. She crouched below a headstone to scope out the area. The searchlight was fixated on the other side of the graveyard and she didn't hear any GENcops around.

So she started searching. She stumbled upon her first corpse. She dropped to her knees and slammed one of her needles into its nose and extracting the glowing blue liquid drug. Three corpses later, Toomes was satisfied with her haul.

Toomes stood and packed her tools away along with hooking her freshly collected zydrate to her belt. A satisfied smile curled her lips as she began her trek out of the graveyard.

Perhaps she had gotten cocky due to her many years of grave robbing. Perhaps she was more tired than she realized and her awareness was down. Either way, she had failed to notice the GENcop patrolling and ran head first into his back. She gasped in surprise as he spun around. He was equally surprised but recovered much faster than she did. Before she could make a mad dash in the opposite direction, the GENcop pulled his gun on her and shot her point blank in the gut. Toomes staggered back, blood pouring from her wound as she collapsed to the ground. She GENcop kept his gun trained on her as her vision tunneled. She heard the speakers above crackle and a female voice begin to screech something, but Tomes couldn't make it out.

"Dammit," she muttered before passing out, "got myself a good haul too."

Toomes came to strapped to a chair in a rather fancy room. She blinked and tugged half-heartedly at her restraints despite knowing it was futile. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a GENcop with his gun trained on her. Her stomach was throbbing but when she looked down, instead of seeing a bloody gaping wound, she found a jaggedly stitched scar.

Well, that explained why she was still alive.

"Hey, so what's going on?" she asked the GENcop standing in the corner. His only reply was to shirt his weight. Toomes gritted her teeth, not liking being ignored. "Hello? I'm talking to you!"

"He's been ordered not to speak with the prisoner." A sickly sweet voice answered from behind her. Toomes craned her head around to look at the intruder and swallowed nervously. The intruder walked to the mahogany desk in front of Toomes and sat down, resting her high heel covered feet on top of it.

"Miss Sweet." Toomes said slowly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Amber Sweet gave her a chilling smile. "Tombraider, one of the many thorns in my side. You have no idea how delighted I was to see the upscale resident dealer swiped from the streets."

"Why am I alive right now? I thought grave robbers were to be shot on sight." Toomes said, not one for beating around the bush. Amber simply began to examine her nails. Toomes did her best to remain patient.

"Most people wouldn't ask such questions out of self preservation."

Toomes shrugged. "You obviously need me for something or else you wouldn't have let me live."

"Smart girl."

Silence spread over the room and Toomes took the chance to check inventory. She wasn't surprised to find all eleven vials of zydrate she had on her previously gone. Amber noticed what the dealer was doing and smirked.

"I took the liberty of relieving you of your illegal street Z." she said. Toomes nodded.

"I figured you would. Enjoy it; most is rather fresh so I expect you'll get yourself high as a blimp off of those." Toomes said, trying to irritate the young CEO. Amber gritted her teeth, glancing quickly at the GENcop waiting in the corner.

"I don't do Street Z." she protested hotly. Toomes smirked.

"Anymore." Toomes said under her breathe. Amber jumped up from the desk and slapped a manicured hand across the dealer's face. Toomes bit her lower lip so hard she tasted blood to keep from crying out.

"Shut up, you pathetic excuse of a woman. I hold your life in my hands so I better start seeing some respect." She hissed. Toomes nodded slowly.

"Yes… Ma'am." She grit out. Amber nodded once, satisfied, before going to sit on top of her desk. She laced her fingers together and fixed a harsh glare on Toomes.

"That's more like it. Now, on to business. I have a little problem I need help taking care of. GENcops are too conspicuous to complete it and I need someone with connections to the underground networks of the city to succeed." Amber explained. Toomes listened carefully, already figuring out what Amber wanted of her.

"So you want me to take care of whatever thorn is in your side?"

It was more of a statement then a question. Amber nodded, smiling at the other woman.

"Correct."

"I'm guessing I don't have a choice in the matter."

Amber shook her head, resting her arms behind her and leaning back slightly. "You have two choices, Tombraider: you can either die for grave robbing or you can capture and bring to me an anarchist who has been driving me crazy for almost two years now."

Toomes didn't waste much time thinking on her answer.

"Who is this anarchist I'm looking for?" she asked. Toomes didn't think Amber's smile could get any more vicious, but evidently she was wrong. Amber stood from the desk and came to stand beside the bound Z Dealer. She pulled out a small remote and pressed a button to lower a screen behind the desk. An image of a young woman with long straight black hair, pale skin, and dark eyes appeared on the screen. Toomes thought she looked familiar, but couldn't place how she knew her.

"A girl by the name of Shilo Wallace."


End file.
